


As the Herb Turns

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neelix tries out some new recipes with unexpected results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the Herb Turns

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a ‘Gay bomb' challenge - “I remember reading the British Secret Service had a scheme to inject female hormones into Hitler's vegetables.”  
> and the following plot bunny: weird things start happening to the crew, sexual orientation - maybe crew members are attracted to different people than the normally are (instead of Tom and Chakotay, Tom finds himself starting to have sexual fantasies about Janeway - or vice versa). Come to find out, Neelix has been injecting female/male hormones into the veggies he's cooking.

Tom Paris tapped his foot as the queue for breakfast moved even more slowly than it had yesterday. He mentally berated himself for sleeping through his alarm, and then directed a string of silent curses at Harry, who hadn’t waited for him when he’d discovered Tom still in bed. These days it paid to arrive early at the Mess Hall.

When the person in front of him let loose with a frustrated sigh, Tom joined him. “I hope there will be enough of the ‘Early Morning Medley’ left by the time we get served,” he remarked hopefully. Glimpses of the piled-high plates of passing crew, along with the tell-tale tantalizing aroma left no doubt as to the main item on the menu.

“Don’t we all?” Walter Baxter turned to face Tom. “Neelix has sure outdone himself with that recipe, hasn’t he? I wouldn’t mind if it stayed on the menu permanently.”

“Me too,” came Crewman Biddle’s voice from behind Tom. “It’s almost enough to make you consider volunteering to work in hydroponics or even the Mess to make certain there will be plenty of those marrow things.”

The queue shuffled forward and those in line continued making conversation with their immediate neighbors. Even if one had to bolt one’s food in an extremely short amount of time, Neelix’s new recipes did not seem to leave anyone with indigestion. It was now a pleasure to eat in the Mess Hall and people were finding they no longer needed to hoard rations to replicate meals they enjoyed. 

Twenty minutes remained until alpha shift commenced. Tom finally reached the head of the queue. He inhaled as much of the mouth-watering smell as he could draw in. “Mmm mmm. You’ve excelled yourself, Neelix.”

It was hard for Neelix to beam any brighter. The crew’s increasingly lavish compliments would have swelled the head of the most temperamental chef in the galaxy, but the Talaxian took it all in his stride. The foodstuffs Voyager had obtained in trade from the Har’tchuck some months ago had proved eminently suitable for hydroponic cultivation and their native recipes had needed only a little tweaking to make them palatable for the majority of the crew. Consequently, morale was at an all time high, and space in the Mess Hall was at a premium. Neelix was seriously considering recommending staggering the meal breaks for the crew into two or even three sittings, or requesting that some way be found to either move or enlarge the Mess Hall.

Tom scanned the room for a spare seat. Someone was going to have to introduce Neelix to the concept of take-away if it got any more crowded. There was no room at the table where Harry was keeping his eyes firmly on his plate. In the far corner, Chakotay stood and picked up his tray. He had been sharing a table with Captain Janeway, Tuvok and Lieutenant Rollins. Straight away, Tom headed for the soon-to-be vacant seat, counting on the fact that even in this atmosphere of heightened camaraderie most of the still unseated junior crew would be too intimidated to ask to share the captain’s table. His gaze slid from the first officer’s neat backside, which usually had a starring role in his fantasies, to the sashaying hips of the Delaney sisters as they also left the Mess Hall and then to the captain’s mouth as she smiled at something Rollins said. A sudden urge to wonder how her lips would feel beneath his own almost distracted him from his mission to get to Chakotay’s newly vacated seat while it was still warm. He claimed the seat and a final glimpse of Chakotay’s rear almost simultaneously.

It was only polite to make brief greetings all round before beginning to eat, and it was no imposition to pass his coffee to the captain to save her the risk of losing her seat to get a second cup. Neelix was still too busy serving to make the rounds with his pot as he used to. For a few minutes, Tom confined his participation in the conversation to brief noises of agreement or otherwise as he chewed his food at a rate that was fast enough to allow him to completely clear his plate having tasted every morsel and leave enough time to get a replacement cup of coffee while still maintaining a certain standard of manners. He forgot about trying to concentrate on the remnant of heat remaining from Chakotay’s thighs before it became indistinguishable from his own; instead he stole surreptitious glances at Kathryn’s mouth, and tried not to frown when he caught Rollins doing the same.

 

~

 

Within a few days, extra furniture had been moved to the Observation Lounge nearest to the Mess Hall. Harry and Tom managed to secure one of the prime tables closest to the view. Even though it was for four, they shared it with B’Elanna, Chakotay, Ayala and Seven. Tom was squashed between Harry and Chakotay. Harry’s thigh pressed firmly against his own. Chakotay had maneuvered smoothly so he was only contacting Tom in the minimum amount of places while managing to rub elbows and knees with Seven, who made no protest and seemed intent on an experiment of her own in frictional coefficients and the generation of static electricity between Starfleet uniform material and that of her catsuit. B’Elanna, sitting opposite Tom, grinned ferally and often in his direction whilst mostly ignoring Ayala, with whom she’d been in a non-exclusive relationship until a month or so ago. Ayala for his part, was content to press against Harry’s other thigh.

It was weird, Tom thought. Last month he would have been in heaven, sitting this close to Chakotay. Oh, it was still nice, but it wasn’t distracting him to the exclusion of everything else and he found he didn’t have to keep a tight rein on his body’s reactions. Perhaps he was finally over his unrequited love. In fact, it had probably been a case of unrequited lust all along, and if he continued to be honest with himself, the signals B’Elanna was sending in his direction were piquing his interest. Something brushed his thigh, and he identified it as a hand, but it wasn’t Chakotay’s, who currently had both hands visible on the table. He turned a little toward Harry, and was startled to discern a faint blush on his friend’s cheeks. Simultaneously they both reached for their drinks. 

“So, has anyone else noticed the newest couple on board?” Tom threw the random question out to the group, needing to distract himself. Harry’s uncharacteristic action had thrown him for a loop.

“There have been several new relationships formed in recent days. To which one do you refer?” Seven’s left hand was perilously close to Chakotay’s right, in full view of everyone.

“Tuvok and Harran.”

“Nooo!” B’Elanna’s long drawn out exclamation of disbelief overtopped Ayala’s and Harry’s reactions. Seven just raised an eyebrow.

Chakotay’s smile was smug. “I believe they’re now doing more than theorizing about cosmic relationships.” 

“But Harran is an anti-social—”

“Must be Neelix’x new recipes.” Ayala interrupted B’Elanna without compunction or fear. “It would take something that good to drag Harran away from Deck 15. I think his cooking has put everybody in a good mood lately. In fact, Security is positively boring. Tom, I was wondering about borrowing some of your flight sims. Maybe I could spend some time at the helm.”

“That’s not a bad idea. You flew for the Maquis often enough and out here we can’t have too many qualified pilots. I’ll look at scheduling you some official training time, if Tom will undertake to make sure you’re up to standard,” said Chakotay agreeably.

Tom nodded and the talk turned back to the unlikely partnership of Tuvok and Mortimer Harran, where the conclusion was reached the two were somehow logically suited, even if everyone had believed Tuvok to be devoted to his wife, while as for Harran, gossip had decided long ago he was asexual.

A group of four entered the lounge. Doug Bronowski and Freddie Bristow each balanced a tray on one hand and escorted a Delaney sister with the other. Tom briefly scoped out Freddie, with whom he’d enjoyed an early passing fling and an occasional one-nighter when they were both in between relationships. Freddy was looking good, but Tom frowned abstractedly when he realized the familiar tug of attraction was missing – wait, not exactly missing, more like dampened down, first with Chakotay, now Freddie. Then he took in Megan Delaney and he would have wolf-whistled, except he remembered where he was before he embarrassed himself. He also breathed a mental sigh of relief when the lost spark of desire flared brightly back to life. Even as Malacia, Mistress of Evil, Megan had never looked quite so…enticing.

 

~

 

She was back at his shoulder again, leaning over, watching him make the latest round of course corrections. Her breath warmed his neck when she leaned in close. He could smell her, feel her radiant body heat and his shoulder burned beneath his uniform where she rested her hand and squeezed to convey her approval. He wanted to shiver as the timbre of her voice did exciting things to his nerve ends, but he held firm and if his “Yes, ma’am,” was a trifle hearty, Tom thought no-one would notice. Except Harry. Tom frowned. His friend was driving him crazy. Harry, good ol’ Harry, was finding every excuse in the book and then some to sit with him, be with him…touch him. Maybe there had been a time when Tom had considered a closer relationship with Harry, but first Harry had been in love with his girlfriend back on Earth, and then in lust with this girl or that – Megan Delaney, Lindsey Ballard, the alien female, what was her name? Tom sighed, and continued with his line of thought - let’s not forget Seven. Seven. He sighed again; he must remember to compliment the Doctor on the design of Seven’s catsuit. But now, Harry seemed to have forgotten he was practically a zero on the Kinsey scale.

It was amazing how four people made the turbolift seem crowded. At the end of the alpha shift Captain Janeway and Chakotay shared the space with Tom and Harry. Harry pressed close to Tom, who stared resolutely at the top of the captain’s head until the lift started moving and he found his gaze drifting down her back and following her shapely hips. An elbow in his ribs drew his attention to the fact the tip of his tongue was poking out between his lips. He clenched his teeth and took advantage of the fact the commander was standing next to Kath-, the captain, to check out Chakotay’s assets instead, but it was the sway of feminine hips his eyes followed as the door closed when his superiors exited the turbolift.

“Tom. Tom, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

“Huh?” Tom dragged his mind back to what Harry was saying. “Sure. I’ll meet you in the Mess Hall. Nineteen hundred okay for you? B’Elanna will be there by then.”

“No, Tom, I mean, would you like to have dinner with me, in my quarters, just the two of us?”

After a moment’s silence, Tom asked hesitantly, “You mean, you and me? As in, you… and me?”

“’SwatImeant.” Harry mumbled and colored faintly as he waited with some trepidation. Alien sex had been easier than asking Tom out. He was at a loss as to why it had taken him so long to recognize Tom’s attractiveness and that having Tom in his bed was suddenly the one thing he wanted in life, but as confused as he was, he had decided he was willing to take the risk. 

Tom swallowed. He opened his mouth and closed it again when no words came out. He coughed awkwardly. The turbolift came to a halt and the door opened. Tom pushed blindly past the crewman waiting to enter and then turned back to face his friend. “I can’t, Harry. I’m sorry. I just can’t.” He took off down the corridor, not quite running. It took a few minutes for him to realize he wasn’t on the deck he wanted. He ducked into a handy storage room, fortunately empty of personnel, where he leant against the shelving and tried to gather his thoughts. Harry’s hopeful expression, Chakotay and Seven touching in public, his shoulder tingling at Captain Janeway’s caress, B’Elanna’s predatory glances, Tuvok and Mortimer Harran, Kathryn’s laughing blue eyes…Perhaps it was another invisible alien invasion responsible for everyone’s uncharacteristic behavior, as they meddled with Voyager’s crew for their own dubious purpose. Security should be asked to do a sensor sweep. The door to his sanctuary opened, and Tom abruptly straightened. He grabbed the closest container and haughtily swept by two giggling female crew members he identified as Ensign Hickman from astrophysics and Jarvis from security. They as it happened barely noticed him, being completely engrossed in themselves.

Back in his quarters, Tom cursed as he dumped the box of regenerative interlink coils on the table. Now he’d have to find time to return them. He replicated a strong coffee and pondered what to do about Harry, who was several years too late in discovering an attraction to his buddy. Needing to do something, he checked his terminal for messages. Amidst the reminder for the timely submission of his helm report, the duty roster for the following month, several notes from the EMH regarding alterations to Sickbay protocols and the need for his assistance with a new research project as well as the usual bunch of jokes, there was a request for his presence, along with that of the rest of the senior staff at mixer to be held the Paxau Resort tonight. He didn’t open the one from Harry.

It was almost a shame the Resort program would be running. The Mess Hall would only contain a small selection of basic dishes. Instead, Neelix would be on the holodeck, preparing some sort of barbecue. His attempts at kebabs had been less than successful, and even cooking leola root over hot coals did not improve its taste. With a deep sigh, Tom wandered into the bedroom. He shook out a brightly colored shirt and found his swimming trunks. He stared at the plain blue shorts, not seeing them as he wondered whether Chakotay would wear the red shorts he wore to box and whether he could be inveigled into playing volleyball, so Tom could watch the play of muscles across his back. Maybe the captain would play as well. She was pretty fit; you’d have to be to play parisses squares with Seven, he mused. He pictured her in the black and red one-piece she habitually wore to the Resort and wondered whether she chose the colors to remind people of her uniform on purpose. He could offer to umpire an all-female match, and Tom brightened at the thought. Still holding his shorts, he sat on the bed to choose two teams of six.

Kathryn would captain one side, B’Elanna the other. Seven, who had acquired a lipstick red one-piece swimsuit with high-cut thighs and a low-cut back was a given to go to Kathryn’s team. The Delaney sisters, arrayed in matching tiny white bikinis, joined B’Elanna, as did Susan Nicoletti. Her tank top clung to her more modest figure in a very pleasing fashion. Ensigns Brookes and Hickman along with Tal Celes rounded out Kathryn’s team. Jarvis could join B’Elanna and he was going to finish her six with Golwat, when he realized he’d somehow imagined Kathryn’s team all wearing one-piece costumes and B’Elanna’s team in bikinis. The image of Golwat in a bikini did nothing for his libido, so he hastily cast around for someone else and settled on the quietly attractive Betazoid from Sciences, Ensign Jurot.

Tom lay back, overwhelmed as he pictured a veritable orgy of feminine pulchritude – breasts of all shapes and sizes, bouncing enticingly as their owners spiked and dove with great competitiveness. Buttocks clenched – he’d always been a bit of an ass man, and he snickered to himself at the unintentional double entendre, although right now he was happy to admit curvy hips had just as much going for them as the narrower kind. The match continued to play out in his fantasy.

Sweat darkened the front of Nicoletti’s grey tank. Sand clung to Seven’s long legs. Megan’s ponytail whipped about her shoulders. Kathryn tripped and cried out as she landed awkwardly. 

Tom started to his feet when he saw a trickle of blood running down her arm. Before the captain could protest he had assumed command, substituting Golwat for Kathryn and Chakotay for himself as umpire, scooping up the suddenly handy first-aid kit and leading Kathryn to sit beneath a nearby tree away from the others. He gently brushed the grains of sand from her pale skin. She didn’t protest when he lowered the strap of her bathing suit from her shoulder. Carefully, he cleaned the cut, healed it with the regenerator, and then daringly placed a kiss on the spot. “All better now,” he murmured. He stared into he eyes as he drew back. His gaze flickered briefly to her lips, which opened just a fraction. Giving her time to draw back or protest in some other way, he leaned forward. She tipped her head, and in slow motion he brought his lips to hers. When her mouth opened, welcoming his, he pulled her to him and kissed her hungrily.

She was bare to the waist; he had a hand on her breast and was nuzzling her neck when he rolled over to his side and onto his shirt. Yellow and red flowers weaving through bright green leaves, liberally sprinkled on a blue background filled his vision and effectively pulled him out of his dream. It wasn’t worth expending the energy to curse and he flopped back with a barely audible disappointed groan as he pondered the frustrations of interrupted fantasies. 

~

 

The Resort was already crowded by the time Tom put in an appearance. He had planned to offer his services to Neelix at the barbecue, but Dalby and Chell were expertly wielding spatulas, flipping an appetizing selection of burgers to which Neelix was carefully adding more seasoning. Harry drooped over an ale at the bar. He’d looked up at Tom’s entry then quickly turned away. Ayala sat next to him, patiently listening to his tale of woe, ready to console him as soon as Harry indicated he was ready for consolation. A game of volleyball was in progress, although this one was between mixed teams. The Delaney sisters were playing, and they were wearing tiny white bikinis. Luckily, they were in top form as Doug and Freddie seemed more interested in following their partners’ movements than the ball.

Tom collected a burger and continued his survey of the crew. Chakotay hovered over Seven as she played kadiskot with Naomi. The sight of Chakotay’s hand briefly touching Seven’s hair then resting on her shoulder momentarily aroused his envy, but he took another bite of his burger and his attention was distracted by Ensigns Hickman and Jarvis passing across his field of vision, giggling to each other yet again. He forgot about Chakotay as he followed their swaying hips with as much appreciation as he had for Neelix’s latest recipes until the path curved behind a tree and took them from his view.

“Mr Paris.” The EMH stepped up beside Tom.

“Hey, Doc!” Tom eyed the PADD on which the Doctor was busily entering cryptic symbols and then took in his uniform. “Do you need me for something?” 

“As it happens…” He smirked as Tom’s face fell. “No.”

“Then you shouldn’t be wearing that uniform here. Computer.” Tom issued a few swift instructions and the blue and black sciences uniform fuzzed into a scrap of red lycra teamed with a red and yellow life-guard’s cap.

“Lieutenant! I believe I have need of your presence in Sickbay after all.”

Tom spread his hands apologetically and hurriedly gabbled some new instructions to the computer. The EMH harrumphed, and took his now blue-and-white patterned shirt and plain Bermuda shorts clad matrix away.

An audience had gathered at the water’s edge a short distance away. His interest piqued, Tom strolled over to see what the attraction was. His eyes widened as he took in Tuvok patiently teaching Harran the mok’bara moves from the Klingon discipline he used as part of his security training. What was even more surprising was the number of times Tuvok found it necessary to adjust Harren’s posture. And that his hands lingered fractionally longer than necessary. For a Vulcan, he was practically having sex in public. Tom stifled a chuckle.

“You see it too!” 

Tom started then stared down into Kathryn Janeway’s laughing eyes. “Um…yeah, I guess.”

“Come for a walk with me, Tom.”

She was wearing that bathing suit, with a strip of black and red and white material tied around her hips. He’d never noticed the sprinkling of freckles on her shoulders before. He nodded and proffered her his arm. By unspoken agreement, they headed away from the crowd. The neatly planned Resort grounds gave way to a small, natural-looking bay. It was currently deserted and likely to stay that way until the food was gone or dusk fell.

Kathryn’s sandals swung from her fingers as they walked in silence, content for the moment to listen to the sand squeaking beneath their feet, the waves lapping a few yards away as the tide went out, and the cries of a pair of gulls that arced and wheeled above their heads. Tom picked up a pebble and threw it into the water. It skipped twice before it sank. Immediately the captain searched for a pebble of her own. Hers skipped three times and she called out triumphantly and pumped the air. Tom grinned; so she wanted to make a competition of it. Suitable stones would be easiest to find in the wet sand, so he kicked off his rope-soled shoes and ran to search. It didn’t take long for them to work their way a fair distance along the shore. At the same instant, both spied the perfect round, flat stone and they raced towards it. Kathryn dove for it a fraction before Tom, but his longer reach cancelled out her advantage and their fingers touched the prize at the same time. They tussled together until the stone lay clasped between their hands and Tom lay partially on Kathryn. Their chests heaved and gurgles of laughter spluttered from both. Then there was silence for a minute as twin blue gazes met and held. Kathryn’s free hand found the back of Tom’s neck and pulled his head towards hers. The instant her lips touched his, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. For a stunned moment he could not respond, and then he rolled onto his back, pulling her to cover him, and kissed her hungrily in return. And it was better than in his fantasies. Here, he wasn’t overwhelmed, encompassed, or just plain too busy thinking that Chakotay was kissing him to enjoy it properly. It didn’t even faze him that she was his captain. She was simply a desirable woman, in his arms and kissing him freely in return. She tasted great – a little like Neelix’s casserole if truth be told. He licked her lower lip, then sucked on it, and breathed in her scent.

Fighting the distraction, Kathryn waited until Tom had one hand firmly kneading her backside and the other at her neck, then she held tightly onto her prize, wrenched her mouth from his, albeit reluctantly, and scrambled to her feet. She took off and got far enough away to time her throw right when he was part way up and looking straight at her. “I win!” she screamed triumphantly as it skipped a satisfactory six times before sinking.

“Cheeky – witch!” Tom quickly substituted and chased after her, catching her easily and grabbing her around the waist. Exuberantly, he swung her round a few times. “Okay…you…win,” he panted, punctuating each pause with a kiss.

They stood for a time, arms wrapped around each other - touching, tasting, teasing, testing. Eventually, Kathryn drew back. “We should go back.”

Tom couldn’t find his voice straight away. He simply looked at her and then nodded his agreement, even when they both knew neither wanted to stop. She didn’t protest when he held her hand all the way back to where her sandals lay where they’d been abandoned. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I have a holodeck booking I’d like to share with you.” He watched several warring expressions cross her features and smiled. He knew the drill. “No strings. Just dinner and the chance to explore a new holoprogram.” He stared intently and knew the exact moment she capitulated.

“Very well. I’d love to.” 

He watched her do something to her hair; shake it out and smooth it into place somehow, making a single clip secure the style. She retied her sarong. Finally, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. Then the captain and her lieutenant returned to the Resort.

The mok’bara class was evidently over, but the crowd of onlookers was still present. Harran had achieved a minor miracle and convinced Tuvok to enter the swimming pool, where the earlier roles of teacher and student were now reversed. Apparently, Tuvok had never learned to swim. It was another lesson that required much hands-on contact between the two. Kathryn and Tom exchanged smiles again.

“I should mix,” she sighed when they turned away. “You too, that’s what these functions are for.”

“Let’s go and mix over there.” Tom indicated to where the musicians were playing. Chakotay was having as much success getting Seven to move in a way that did not involve strict adherence to the rhythm as Harry was with Ayala. When Tom got over his shock at seeing how quickly Harry had recovered from his unrequited love, he gave him a hearty ‘thumbs up’ and a nod of approval, then swept Kathryn onto the small dance floor where he could touch her with impunity. Before they attracted too much attention, he steered her in the direction of Chakotay and Seven, then with the instructions, “Now mix!” pushed her into her first officer’s arms, while he abstracted Seven from Chakotay’s clutches. Before Seven could make even a token protest, Tom performed another adroit maneuver that left Seven with Ayala while he whirled Harry away. “Okay, spill it,” he ordered, and nothing loath, Harry ‘spilt it’.

It was all too simple. Ayala had plied him with drinks until Harry had confessed his new-found, unreturned feelings for Tom. Ayala had reciprocated with how he felt about Harry, and had convinced him to give the two of them a chance. He was, and it seemed to be working. But how was Tom coping with Chakotay’s sudden infatuation with Seven? Harry enquired in his turn, having been the recipient on more than one occasion of Tom’s drunken revelations about his attraction to the first officer. Oh well, one couldn’t wait forever and a dream, like a plant, was apt to die eventually without the right nourishment. Tom was fine, thank you. And they turned back to the dance floor, to see Chakotay and the captain now dancing with others, while Seven and Ayala had managed to get a perfectly timed box-step going and resembled nothing less than a pair of robotic dance instructors. Harry sighed, and went back to trying to loosen up Ayala’s moves, fiercely hoping that his performance on the dance floor was not indicative of his performance in the bedroom, while Tom took over Seven’s instruction and had only marginally more success than Chakotay. “Try Tuvok’s mok’bara class,” he advised when Chakotay cut back in. 

~

Five days later, the morning briefing was well underway. Chakotay sat in his usual seat on Janeway’s right, but Tom had taken the chair on her left, instead of his previously preferred place next to Chakotay. That seat was occupied by Seven. B’Elanna had neatly displaced Tuvok and commandeered the seat next to Tom, although it wasn’t doing her any good as he had angled his body away from her and practically faced the captain as he paid the utmost attention to her every pronouncement. Harry and Neelix didn’t care where they sat. Harry was preoccupied; he smiled as he relived the night he’d spent with Ayala. He squirmed uncomfortably every now and then and thanked his luck stars Tom was otherwise engrossed, otherwise he’d have to spend the lunch break deflecting Tom’s teasing. Ayala definitely made up for in the bedroom what he lacked on the dance floor. Neelix was also thinking of other things. Dalby and Chell had unexpectedly become more than just good kitchen hands. He too, squirmed uncomfortably, and thanked his deities he would be able to spend the rest of the morning in the Mess Hall standing up, although he was going to have to replicate some new spatulas.

“The Doctor has something to report,” announced the captain, when everything else had been dealt with.

“As you have heard from Lieutenant Tuvok, there has been a welcome though inexplicable decrease by eighty percent in the number of security-related infractions during the past three weeks. Mr Neelix has reported that morale is at an all time high, as is patronization of the Mess Hall. Lieutenant Torres confirmed energy usage for replicators is at a corresponding all time low, and she has been able to shunt the surplus into other areas. Commander Chakotay's reports are completely up to date and he has had some unexpected free time as his services as counselor have barely been required.”

“And you are about to tell us that Sickbay has also been pretty quiet,” put in Tom.

“Not exactly. While it is true I have had almost no injuries or illnesses to treat, there has been an increase in the number of people wishing to make sure their contraceptive boosters are up to date.”

“Did we really need to know that, Doctor?” Janeway asked. 

“Actually, yes, as there have been an equally significant number of people wishing to inactivate their contraceptive, along with a third group seeking advice in regards to...how did someone phrase it? Yes, that's it, problems associated with a form of physical intimacy outside their usual experience.”

“Almost everyone on board is aware of your research into mating rituals; naturally they wanted to consult an expert.” Neelix seemed blithely unaware of the reactions his comments drew from Tom and Harry. “Why, I have a question for you myself. What is the best thing to—”

“I'll schedule you for an appointment this afternoon,” the Doctor interrupted. “We will discuss any questions you may have then. Now as I was about to say, in light of our experience with the Srivani I have been conducting an investigation into possible reasons for the changes in the crew's behavior, including that of the senior staff,” he emphasized. “With the exception of Naomi Wildman and me, everyone seems to have been affected to some extent, and on the whole, in a positive if unexpected way.” He looked thoughtfully at each of those present.

“Go on,” ordered the captain tersely when the Doctor's eyes lingered on her a little longer than the others.

“Firstly, I examined the ventilation system for toxins, airborne viruses and the like. It was clean. Then I looked for unusual EM signals, radiation pulses and other types of radiation. Nothing different. I scanned on all frequencies for invisible alien invasion or microtechnologies. Once again, there was nothing on Voyager that should not be there.”

“Why didn't you bring this to my attention earlier?” Janeway leant forward, staring intently at the visage of the EMH on the viewscreen.

“As I explained, there was nothing bad happening. On the contrary, everything was going well, and it was only a few days ago, I began to piece together exactly what was happening.” The Doctor began a dissertation on the brain, describing the location of the hypothalamus and its role in sexual excitement and the limbic system and its purpose in arousal. He managed to mention serotonin, dopamine and pheromones before Janeway cut him off. “Very well then, I will explain how this relates to the crew.” He held up a PADD. “I’ve compiled a list of all of the new relationships that have begun in the relevant time period, complete with any changes to normal patterns of behavior.

“Captain Kathryn Janeway,” the Doctor paused and his eyes glinted. “The captain has forsaken her self-imposed vow of chastity to pursue a sexual relationship, not with Commander Chakotay, but with Lieutenant Paris, who has apparently not only recovered from his unrequited crush on the commander, but changed his sexual orientation.” 

Kathryn Janeway’s expression froze, while two spots of color stained Tom’s cheeks. His gaze flickered over Chakotay, who almost covered up his own embarrassment. 

The EMH continued into the stunned silence. “Meanwhile, Commander Chakotay no longer suffers from the unresolved sexual tension he previously felt for Mr Paris and Captain Janeway; he has succeeding in commencing a relationship with…,” an improperly restrained harrumph escaped the Doctor’s lips, "Seven of Nine, who is taking this opportunity to practice all of the lessons I’ve been giving her in the social mores.” 

The emphasis the Doctor placed on ‘I’ve’ garnered quite a few expressions of amazement and speculation, but nobody had time to comment as he ploughed on relentlessly. In his most formal and pompous tones he announced, “Lieutenant Commander Tuvok proved to be quite a conundrum as I had thought his bond with his wife would provide him with some immunity. Instead, he chose to commence a relationship with one of the few males on board I would have ventured to classify as asexual. Obviously, Crewman Mortimer Harran was simply celibate, as he’s now enjoying all the benefits of a healthy relationship. The worm will turn,” he murmured, before turning to Harry, and taking a deep breath. “Ah, Ensign Harry Kim.”

Harry cringed back into his seat.

“Yet another case of the turning worm.” The Doctor had been studying Jorgensen’s early 21st century research where it was first discovered humans were able to alter the sexual orientation of worms. “It seems young Mr Kim has decided to pine after the young woman back home, the Delaney twin with no interest in him, unsuitable aliens or Seven of Nine -,” the Doctor pronounce each syllable of the last through not quite clenched teeth, “no longer. He too has succumbed to the charms of another gentleman. Lieutenant Ayala gallantly consoled Mr Kim when he was turned down by his erstwhile friend Mr Paris.”

Both Harry and Tom now sported blushes. How was the Doctor privy to such information?

“Lieutenant Torres also set her sights on Mr Paris, but never one to leave things to chance, she also courted Ensigns Baytart and Culhane, perhaps hoping as pilots they shared Mr Paris’ ‘flyboy charm’? Liking variety, she has enjoyed the company of Ensign Golwat and crewman Lydia Anderson as well.

“I could carry on with further details. Samantha Wildman and Joey Carey are considering giving Naomi a sibling, Ensigns Bristow and Bronowski are extremely busy keeping the Delaneys occupied, in fact they’ve quite exhausted my supply of Kirkagra, Ms Hickman and Ms Jarvis are finding plenty to keep each other amused, and even Crewman Biddle has discovered a hitherto unknown side to his personality and has actually found a way to satisfy Crewman Henley. By the way, ‘young’ Gerron Tem has successfully made the transition to adulthood with the assistance of Ensigns Tabor and Mia Jurot. You would be advised no longer to refer to him as ‘the boy’. 

“So I asked myself, was there any other thing the whole crew had in common? And do you know the answer I came up with?”

Mesmerized, the senior staff as one shook their heads. The Doctor had been pacing as he pontificated. Suddenly he whipped around to face them full on.

“Mr Neelix’s cooking! Yes, Mr Neelix, who incidentally has begun replicating replacement kitchen implements at an incredible rate since Messrs. Dalby and Chell have been assisting him after shift, learnt some new recipes from the Har’tchuck. Upon learning of their popularity with the crew, I took it upon myself to examine these recipes in great detail, but found nothing that would produce any such response in the crew. It then occurred to me that Mr Neelix’s cooking techniques might have been causing an unanticipated chemical change in the Har’tchuckian foodstuffs, so with the help of the security tapes I watched him prepare various meals over several days. Do you know what I found?”

There was another round of head shaking and murmurs of negation. 

“Neelix was adding some sort of herb to every dish. An herb that was not mentioned in the recipes. An herb that could not be found growing in the hydroponics bay.” The Doctor’s voice grew a little louder with each revelation until he literally shouted the final, “An herb that was not in the replicator data base. So where, I hear you ask, was Neelix obtaining this culinary addition?” He paused dramatically. “Just where did you obtain the herb?” he added as an aside.

“Oh, it is a Har’tchuckian herb,” Neelix reassured everyone. “One of the market traders gave it to me at the last minute. He insisted I take it, saying their people used it to enhance their foods during long periods of isolation. Their winters last 296 days you know, and people were apt to get on one another’s nerves, so to speak. He said it would promote a feeling of happiness and well-being. He was quite particular about the cultivation method, so I’m keeping it in my quarters. It needs rotating light frequencies for set periods every day as well as a precise amount of water and music played for two periods of thirty-seven minutes twice daily.” Here Neelix frowned. “In the rush, I didn’t obtain any Har’tchuckian music, so I play Talaxian folk songs instead. I didn’t think that would do it any harm. In fact, it seems to like the rhythm as it’s quite tripled in size, so I’ve been able to add it to nearly every meal. You’ve got to admit, it works. Everyone is much happier, wouldn’t you agree?” His smile wavered a trifle. “I do hope I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Wrong! Wrong? Would you call single-handedly chemically affecting the brains and thereby altering the sexual orientation of more than half the crew, as well as increasing the libido in almost everyone doing anything wrong? People are fixating on the most unlikely partners.”

Neelix looked crestfallen. Chell and Dalby would no longer want to assist him in the kitchen, let alone the bedroom, and he’d just laid in a supply of extra flexible spatulas in three sizes and a choice of four materials, as well as adding a few extra loops to the egg whisk. He wondered if he could add the Har’tchuckian herb to just their meals. 

“Doctor, have you been able to determine whether this herb is addictive? Will there be any side effects if Neelix just stops using it?” asked Kathryn, carefully refraining from catching Tom’s eye.

“It will take a few days for the effects to wear off, but otherwise there will be no sudden withdrawal symptoms. Everyone should return to normal.”

“Very well. Mr Neelix, you are to refrain from adding any more of that herb to your any of your recipes.”

“As chief of security I would request Mr Neelix confer with me regarding the safest way to dispose of his herb.” At Janeway’s nod, Tuvok turned and faced Neelix. “In your quarters in thirty minutes.”

The meeting broke up. Chakotay headed for his office, but as he reached to door, he paused then hurried off to the Mess Hall. Checking that only Neelix was present, he made his request, “Neelix, I’d like a small sample of that herb before you destroy it. It may come in handy with some of the problems I encounter when counseling the crew. There’s no need to mention it to Tuvok.”

“Why certainly, Commander. I have some here ready to use at lunch time. Please take it with you. I’ll forward the instructions for its care to your office.”

“Thanks, Neelix.”

No sooner than Chakotay had left the mess hall, Neelix’s comm. Badge chirped. The captain summoned him to her Ready Room. She made one request, and apart from raising his eyebrows, Neelix made no demur and hurried to his quarters. The light was blinking at his terminal. He could no more resist checking his messages than a Vulcan could resist the drive of the pon farr, so he looked to see who needed him. His eyebrow could no more resist rising than that of a supercilious Vulcan. Tom, Harry, B’Elanna and Seven, all anxious that an opportunity for scientific research not be wasted, wanted him to save them a cutting from herb. He quickly put aside some rootlets and hid them in his bathroom. He removed one extra for the captain and spent a few precious minutes rearranging the dirt so it looked like the plant had never been disturbed. He checked the time; he had just thirteen minutes before his meeting with Tuvok. He bundled the last little clipping into a clean flask and hurried to the Ready Room.

“You don’t need to mention this to Tuvok,” said the captain as Tuvok’s voice came over the comm. system reminding Neelix of their appointment. He nodded and took his leave.

“Mr Neelix, I have given this matter some further thought. There will be periods when we travel through voids or long distances between inhabited systems. I believe this would be a useful way to combat the boredom and inevitable fights that break out. I suggest you keep a small amount growing at all times and I will undertake to advise you of the best times to use it in the crew’s meals.”

“Why, Mr Tuvok! That is an excellent idea. I would be more than happy to oblige.” 

“I would also like a small cutting to experiment with myself. There may be some way to combine its DNA with an orchid and have it exude a calming perfume. And by the way, there’s no need to tell Captain Janeway that the herb has not been destroyed. I will simply report the situation has been dealt with.”

Neelix agreed post haste, saw Tuvok out, and then danced with glee; he would not have to get rid of his new spatulas after all.

END


End file.
